


Chasing

by pineovercoat



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: (after abhorsen anyway), Established Relationship, Flash Fic, M/M, Post canon, implied sensuality, maybe not a drabble in length but def in spirit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 07:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineovercoat/pseuds/pineovercoat
Summary: prompt:a kiss on the chestThe impulse carried him like the mighty Ratterlin; it had ever since he was a child. The equation was simple- a mountain, snowmelt, and gravity. What could he do but oblige?
Relationships: Sameth/Nicholas Sayre





	Chasing

**Author's Note:**

> listen, 12 year old me. sam/nick? ur gonna come back to it big time.  
>   
> look i kno i don't need to explain myself but respectfully i see creator/destroyer vibes and also best friend dying in arms and choose to resign myself to rarepair hell once more  
> 

Half an evening and a good staircase's distance away, a ring lay forgotten on Prince Sameth's workbench, the same fingers that had earlier set themselves to the thin band of metal now bound up in another sort of gold. It was a small clue to the grand mystery of how the prince had ended up where he did, his body folded over Nicholas Sayre's like a prayer, though in retrospect, it really wasn't much of a mystery at all.

" _Sam_ ," Nick had said, in that beguiling way of his- like a silk tie slipping a collar stand, like steam as it curled away from tea, like the sprawl of inked letters on linen paper, pulling Sam away from his cares and into uncomplicated warmth. " _You have tremendous focus. Turn it on me_."

This was Nick, after all. The impulse carried him like the mighty Ratterlin; it had ever since he was a child. The equation was simple- a mountain, snowmelt, and gravity. What could he do but oblige?

He followed it now, though with less urgency, finding much worth discovering along the way. Nick's fingers. His ragged breath at its source. The small but indelible scar over his heart. Its twin sat at the center of Nick's palm, a circuit that should have been Sam's- without thinking, Sam sketched a blessing there in the Charter. _Life_ , he willed. _Fire_.

The Charter marks gleamed, pretty and redundant as the promises Nick had breathed against his skin, fuel to the master mark burning at his lips. A heart beat beneath them, after all, and blood rushed to the pace it set. _Swift river's run._

Sam pressed his lips to that current. The mark fell from his tongue, and had the grace to do so just as easily as he had.

This time, at last, it held.


End file.
